141 - Pogoblin


You turn the corner onto your street, and of course the little motherfucker is there at the foot of your driveway. Every day with this shit. Every. Fucking. Day.

After a hard day’s work, all you want to do is pull up in your driveway without having a snot-nosed little ginger shit bouncing on a pogo stick blocking your way. Apparently this is too much to ask.

Squeak-EE. Squeak-EE. Squeak-EE. The sound of the pogo stick is imprinted in your brain. Squeak-EE. The rusty spring haunts your dreams. Squeak-EE. Constant and unyielding, the sound of the pogo stick rings in your brain over and over like a collection agent calling at the dinnertime of your mind.

You’re tired of it. You turn into your driveway, closing the foot between pogo-shit and the street. Your bumper stops inches shy of him, but he does not move, the stubborn little asshole.

You stare him down; he stares back with those ugly little brown eyes, the same color as the disgusting freckles on his forehead above. What did you do to deserve the punishment of this child of Judas Iscariot?

You honk your horn and wave your hand violently across your body to signal him to move. He responds to your gesture by picking a large green booger from his nostril and eating it. He manages to do this while keeping one hand on the pogo stick; he does not miss a single hop. Squeak-EE. You might be impressed if you weren’t so thoroughly disgusted.

Finally, the little bastard moves out of the way, allowing you to park the car under the driveway. As you exit the car, the horrible little gnome hops off his squeaky nightmare pole and runs toward you.

“Mommy, mommy!” shouts the soulless dwarf that somehow sprung from inside your body. “I’m so glad you’re home! I missed you!”

You kneel in defeat, penitent before whatever God you have so grossly offended as to be doomed to care for this abomination. The horrid little midget troll slams into you full-speed, wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace.

“I love you, mommy,” says your own personal walking curse.

You throw up in your mouth a little.